texts and textbooks
by CammieInTheMaking
Summary: A little bit different then what I normally write, however this is a Lams fic (LaurensXHamilton). Modern AU, set in the state of Connecticut, while they are both 17 and in their junior year of high school. Other ships make appearances in the background.
1. Chapter 1

**So I started to write this work as a way to cope with exams week, and then my grandmother died and it became a way to cope with that. Cannot guarantee that it will be good, nor that it will always make sense, but here it is.**

"Ah, Alexander, early for class again, I see." Mr. Washington smiled. "I changed seats for the new semester, let me check the seating chart."

"Alright, Mr. Washington." Alex placed his books down on the corner of the nearest desk. He looked around the room. _History is definitely my favorite class. I love this room so much. Even though my dad is the teacher._ His eyes roamed over the flags and maps covering the walls and wondered if he'd ever know it all. _There's so much knowledge in the world._

"Okay, Alexander. You're in the back row, the second to last seat on the right." Mr. Washington pointed. Alex groaned. "I'm sorry, but I can trust you in the back, other kids, not so much. I put Hercules next you, if that helps." _Having your dad as your teacher can be good and bad._

"It's fine, Mr. Washington." Alex picked up his books and walked into the corner. He was pulling back his chair when Herc walked into the classroom. "Hey Alex. Mr. Washington. New seats?" He asked, noticing Alex had just sat down in the back row.

"Yes, Hercules. You're next to Alex, in the corner. I hope I can trust you two?" Their history teacher asked seriously.

"Yes, sir." Hercules spoke. Alex nodded in agreement.

"Thomas, you're early." Mr. Washington added, noticing the boy who entered his classroom. "You have a new seat, it's..." He looked down at the paper in his hand, his finger running along it, mouthing the various names. "Front row, third seat from the left."

"Okay." Jefferson brought his books over to his new desk. "Hamilton. Mulligan." He curtly nodded at his classmates. They were in the middle of a truce that would last three more weeks. This particular truce was brought about by multiple teachers threatening them with detentions. George wouldn't mind him bringing home a detention, since he knew how annoying Thomas Jefferson could be, but Martha would kill him. And Thomas' parents were the same. So they had decided on a month-long truce in hopes that it would calm their teachers to see that they were getting along- even if it was pre-agreed and false.

"Jefferson." They spoke in unison, nodding back to him.

Slowly, their other classmates filtered in. The rows started to fill up, but the seat next to Alex remained empty. Hercules looked over at his best friend and whispered, "It's Laf or John Laurens."

Alex dramatically dropped his head down on his desk. "No!" He groaned. "The odds are against me."

"John, nice of you to be on time." Mr. Washington spoke calmly. "Your new seat is in the back row, next to-" He chuckled at seeing the state his adopted son was in. "Alexander."

"Herc, kill me now." The black-haired boy groaned.

"Ah, teacher's pet. And how are you doing this fine morning?" Laurens stated confidently.

"Just fine. How long did it take you to do your hair? Was that why you were late to homeroom?" Alex snapped.

"No, I was a bit busy with a _male_ problem, if you know what I mean." He winked.

Alex gagged jokingly. "Yes, because if you really were masturbating, you'd tell me, of all people." _So maybe that joke gag was somewhat real. How can he casually bring stuff like that up? He has no clue I'm gay. Oh dear lord this semester is going to be a new kind of hell._

"Maybe I would. Maybe I get off on knowing people know I'm masturbating." He smirked arrogantly.

"I'm not going to glorify that with an reply." Alex rolled his eyes.

"You just did, Lexi." John smiled.

Alex inhaled sharply. _Everyone_ knew he hated being called Lexi. Even Jefferson never stooped that low. "I swear, Laurens, if you call me Lexi again, I'll-" But he didn't have to come up with a threat because the bell rang.

"Ah, Gilbert. Barely on time, as always." Mr. Washington commented. "I'm sure you can tell where your new seat is." Just in case he couldn't, Mr. Washington pointed his pen at the desk sitting empty in the center of the classroom.

"Thanks, Mr. W."

"Any time, Gilbert." Mr. Washington commented dryly. As long as Laf is on time, Mr. Washington doesn't mind his humor. _Usually, whenever Laf is over, Dad's really friendly with him. He has to be professional during school hours_ , Alex reminded himself.

Mr. Washington started up the projector and started his lecture, changing slides as he talked. Alex scribbled down notes on the class and wrote down notes to Herc in the corner of the pages in his notebook. He continuously glanced over at Herc's notebook to look at the other boy's comments.

"Hey Lexi." Laurens whispered.

Alex breathed deeply, trying to remain calm. "Yes, Laur-Laur?" He shot back.

"You did not just call me Laur-Laur." Laurens said, shocked.

"What do you want?" Alex whispered sharply.

"If you miss some of the notes in class, would Mr. Washington give you his notes when you get home?"

Alex didn't respond. _Why do I like this guy? I don't even understand my own hormones._

"Hey, come on, lighten up, it was a joke!" Laurens tried. "Alex, I was-"

"Mr. Laurens, would you like to tell me what's so important that it interrupts my lecture?" Mr. Washington interrupted.

Alex looked up from his notes and snuck a glance over at John, who's face had flushed an adorable bright pink. And now he wanted to slap himself for thinking that. "Nothing, sir."

"Well clearly it was something." Mr. Washington pressed. "Tell me now or I will keep you after class to give you a detention."

"I was just asking Alex if he could clear something up for me, since he seemed to understand it. I'm sorry, sir." Laurens covered.

Alex fully turned his head to look at his classmate. That was quite the clever lie. If Alex had to give Laurens one thing, he was good with cover stories and lies, something no one ever thought he could be. Also, he was wicked attractive when he blushed. "Alexander, is this true?"

 _Fuck. Of course his honor would be called into question. Shit. Should he lie to his dad? He knew Laurens was depending on him, and he couldn't bear knowing Laurens had gotten a detention because of him._ "Yeah, Mr. Washington. He was asking me to clarify Jamestown's crops." _That should be broad enough for Laurens to lie about._

"Well, John, next time you have a question on the material, ask. Did Alexander explain it to you or do I need to?" Mr. Washington queried. _First names again, Laurens is in the clear._

"No, Alex covered it pretty well."

Mr. Washington went back to his slides, but Alex knew he'd be questioned thoroughly later. _Is John worth it?_ He asked himself. As he saw Laurens slide down in his chair and whisper a quick, "Thanks, man." In his direction, he knew the answer was yes.


	2. Chapter 2

"You've got ten minutes left in class, use it wisely." Mr. Washington dismissed. A soft cheer went up among the students. Everyone loved when their history teacher gave them time to do homework or talk, whichever you choose.

"Hey Lexi."

Alex inhaled sharply. Only one person could be so cocky as to continue using that god-awful nickname despite the person receiving the nickname having covered for him. "What do you want, Laur-Laur?" He asked, not bothering to look up from his textbook.

"Thanks. You know, for earlier. Covering for me."

"It's fine." Alex waved him off, ignoring the fluttering of his heart.

"I was a bit out of line, commenting on your father like that. I shouldn't have said anything." Laurens said sheepishly, looking down at his fingers, tapping on the desk.

Alex noticed the toe of John's left foot scuffing the tiled floor. "It's fine, John." Laurens didn't respond. "John?" Alex tried. Still no response. "Laur-Laur?" Laurens' toe still scuffed along the tile, his fingers drumming the desk. Alex reached over and shoved the boy lightly. He noticed that the blush that was spreading out along Laurens' freckled cheeks. _I want to kiss every freckle he has. Of course, he's straight. So it doesn't matter what I want to do._ Alex shoved Laurens a little harder. _He's probably embarrassed._

"Merde!" Laf spoke. He had been talking to Hercules during John and Alex's conversation but noticed that John was about to fall out of his chair.

"John!" Alex cried out, reaching out his arm. John snapped out of his trance as he started falling. His arm shot out and his fingers wrapped around Alex's outstretched wrist, and Alex caught him mid fall, gripping John's arm with both hands, and pulling him back upright. In the scuffle, Alex would've sworn he noticed John had a bit of a _male_ problem. In other words, a _rise in his pants._ Basically, Alex would've, in that moment, bet money that John had an erection. But the moment passed as John was pulled up and back into his seat. He heaved a sigh of relief. Alex wasn't quite sure what he saw.

"You okay, mon ami?" Laf asked.

John nodded. "Thanks Alex. I guess I owe you big time." He sounded dumbstruck, like he couldn't believe what really happened. He had even called Alexander, 'Alex.' _John Laurens owes me. Oh, I like to think about that. I would never force him to do anything though. It'll probably get forgotten. He'll forget it by tomorrow._ But tomorrow seemed so far away when he stared into Laurens' green eyes, and Laurens looked into his brown ones.

Herc sneezed. "I think I'm allergic to your cologne, Laurens."

"Mon ami, I think you ruined their moment." Laf commented.

"There was no moment." Alex spoke quickly. "Just..."

"Exhilaration." Laurens supplemented. "I did almost smack my skull on the tile. I don't think red splatters were meant to be part of the design."

Alex stifled a laugh. "Gentlemen." The four looked up at Mr. Washington. "What was the disturbance over here? The one that just occurred? I should never hear shouting while class is in session, not even during a debate."

"Sorry sir." Laf spoke first. "John was about to fall out of le chair and mon ami Alexander saved him."

Mr. Washington surveyed the group. He took note of the look in John's eyes, the panicked aftershock of a surprise event. He had seen that look on many a soldier when he had been a general, serving in Afghanistan. Alex was breathing slightly heavier than normal, the clear result of physical exertion. Hercules and Gilbert were just bystanders, clearly. "Alright. John, I don't think I need to remind you to not fall out of chairs in the future, but I will anyway." He started to walk away.

Alex noticed John was blatantly staring at him. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." He joked.

"Yeah sure, Lexi. I want to see your face more often." Laurens waved him off. Alex felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. _I just caught him, and he was thankful. But I had to ruin it and make a joke. Now we're back to bickering._

"Maybe you would, you were the one who told me about your masturbation habits, like I care." Alex commented snidely.

"Lexi-" The rest of John's statement was lost under the ring of the bell. Alex picked up his books and rushed out of the classroom, Lafayette by his side. Hercules had lunch next so he took his time. Alex had French III next, and it was next door to Laf's Spanish III. They were taking the languages to better speak together. They called their mixed garble 'Franglish' - French, Spanish, and English. It was fun to watch poor Herc try to keep up. He had started in Spanish I, but transferred into French I his sophomore year. So this year he has French II with a group of sophomores, despite him being a junior. Which meant he had first lunch today. Alex and Laf talked right outside the doors for a handful of minutes. "Alex, the bell's about to ring!" His friend Angelica called out to him. "Thanks Angel!" He called back. "See you at lunch, Laf."

"See you at lunch, Alex."

Alex was about to turn when he saw Laurens walk behind Laf into the Spanish classroom. "I am so sorry you have class with that jerk."

"I don't think he's that bad. He's amistoso. But you don't think he's all jerk, do you, mon ami? I saw le mirada en tu ojos."

"Señor Lafayette. So close, but it would be 'la' not 'le.'" Señorita Martinez corrected him. "Now, please enter the classroom."

"Monsieur Hamilton, you should follow Señorita Martinez' advice as well."

"Sorry Madame Jones." Alex and Laf caught each other's eye and grinned widely, heading into their respective classrooms. Immediately after, the bell rang. _Angelica was right._ Alex thought, as he slid into his seat right next to her.

French started with a pop quiz and they reviewed verbs all class. For 80 minutes. Damn their block schedule. It was great most of the time, but sometimes it just dragged.


	3. Chapter 3

After school, Alex was waiting for his dad to finish office hours and Herc had half an hour until football practice started. "I need to pee." Herc stated.

"Then go?" Alex suggested.

"Alone?" Herc asked, as if Alex had just mentioned going to hell for a quick trip.

"Fine." Alex sighed dramatically, and shut his locker door. They headed into the bathroom.

As Hercules was washing his hands, he looked over at his friend. "Dude, you know Mia?"

"Your girlfriend?" Alex deadpanned.

"Yeah. She wanted me to have sex with her in a classroom. During school. While I was at lunch, she had study, and she came over to me, asking me to fuck her in 237. She said she knew there was no class in there."

"Did you?" Alex asked.

"Nah man, but I kind of wanted to. She's always coming up with insane stuff like that though! I almost can't keep up! How are you doing in the relationship department?"

"Still single. Like usual. But there is a guy-"

"Who is he?" Hercules cut his friend off.

Neither noticed the teenager in the third stall. The freckled teen tucked a lock of black hair behind his ear. John listened to the friends, not trusting himself to move an inch.

"Let me finish, Herc. With a face like his, he's got to be straight, though. I've given up on my chances." Alex sighed.

"Alex, you never know. I didn't know Laf was pansexual." Hercules consoled his friend.

"Laf screams 'gay' but makes out with girls. How did you not realize he liked more than one gender?" Alex laughed.

"I'm oblivious to it all. I sort of thought that you were gay, but I wasn't sure. You know me, I never notice anything."

"That's definitely true. And I'm bisexual, I like girls _and_ boys. Sometimes I find boobs attractive, other times I find lower voices attractive. It _changes_."

"Alex, what's the difference between bisexual and pansexual? I don't mean to be offensive, but I honestly don't know." Herc asked sheepishly.

"Okay, so _pan_ sexuals don't choose someone because of sexual identity, or expression, and _bi_ sexuals like men _and_ women. Some pansexuals identify as bisexual because they don't realize the difference, they are very similar." Alex explained. John thought about that description. _It's pretty on point, actually. And who would've thought,_ the _Alexander Hamilton is gay. Well, bi. But he likes dick. I have a chance! But not really, he likes that stupid straight guy. Please just come to terms with the fact that he's straight and look for your local gay, ie. me!_ John thought about what he was thinking. _Way to sound desperate, John!_

 _I haven't met a guy who was my type_ and _gay since Michael..._

 _Don't bring up Michael._

 _Oh, Michael? Or the fact that Michael committed suicide because of his father? Because honestly, with Mr. Washington, I can't tell if he's homophobic._

 _Do not think about that._ John was thankfully snapped out of his thoughts by a particularly whiny, "Please!"

"No, Herc. I'm not going to tell you who he is. Maybe in a day or two. But not now."

"But Alex! Now I have to go to practice, and I'll be thinking about this the entire time. Thanks a lot." He complained sarcastically. "When practice is over, I'll text you! Mark my words, I'll wheedle it out of you if it kills me."

"I'll make sure my phone is on silent." Alex commented, laughter evident in his voice.

"Screw you."

"Screw Mia instead, you're not my type." Alex teased. "I hear she wants to do it in a classroom. You better watch yourself, you seem to have an exhibitionist on your hands. Wait until she chooses a more public place. Then you'll come running for advice." _Why would Hercules ask Alex for advice about exhibitionism? Wait. He's not! Is_ the _Alexander Hamilton an exhibitionist_?

"Because you'd have sex in public. Wouldn't want anyone you bicker with, which is _everyone_ , to see you moaning at someone else's mercy."

"Shut up!" John could see a sliver of Alex's face through the crack in the door as he turned away from his face. That tiny sliver turned scarlet with Hercules' new commentary. John smiled to himself. He enjoyed gaining new information about Alex.

"Alright dude, I've got to go to football. We _will_ talk later."

"See you. I'm going to the cafe anyway, we can walk together."

John listened to their footsteps walk past his stall and out the door, then heard the door open and close. He counted to 30 just in case and finished going to the bathroom. As he was washing his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror above the sink. It was cloudy from years of not being cleaned properly, and it was probably a cheap mirror to begin with. His hair was a bit of a mess, but in a nice way. An artful, casual mess. He grabbed the ribbon he kept in his pocket and tied it back. His green eyes were striking, and his smile was genuine. His skin was clear - a handful of pimples here and there, but hey, he is a teenager - and a million freckles, but his ex from when he lived in South Carolina loved them. Every one who hit on him said his freckles were adorable.

 _What's not to like, right?_ _Alex is hotter than me, but I'm not trash on the side of the road. I have value. Just because I'm not hot doesn't mean I'm not adorable. Right?_ He tried to logic.

 _Maybe I'm too cocky and arrogant, maybe that's why he doesn't like me. Maybe he's not into guys who are taller than him? A lot of people like guys who are taller than them. You don't. Maybe he's not into guys with freckles. Who doesn't like freckles? Maybe comments like that are why he doesn't like me._

John groaned aloud and realized he was still washing his hands. _Or maybe it's because I zone out like that and waste water._ He thought spitefully. _You want to pull yourself together, man?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Trigger Warning: mentions of suicide and parental abuse. Proceed with caution and take care.**

 **Also, if dad jokes offend you, skip this chapter.**

 **Many thanks to LookUpI'mThere for telling me about the uploading mistake!**

John Laurens headed out of the bathroom and went to his locker. He was less than 20 lockers down from Alex. When they were freshmen this section was for G-L last names, so he got lucky. And to be on the second floor of their three-floor high school was a luxury. John's fingers stretched out to the lock. "Clear it, right turn to 16, left turn, go past 16 to 46, and right immediately to 30." He muttered to himself as he followed his own instructions.

"You could just stuff a pencil in the locking mechanism, like over half the student population." That voice was without a doubt, most definitely Alexander Hamilton, and he sounded cheerful.

"Do you, Lexi?" He bit out, swinging open his locker door instead of turning around.

"No, I don't." He sounded hurt.

"Then don't tell me what to do." John spoke loudly, glancing over his shoulder at last. Alexander looked as hurt as he sounded.

"I'm- I'm sorry. If I had known you were in such a bad mood I wouldn't have said anything." He looked at the floor and started walking over to his own locker. Sure enough, he started turning the lock.

Laurens wanted to bang his head against the wall of lockers. Or maybe the brick wall a few feet over. "Hey, Alex, I'm sorry. It's not you. I'm just mad at something else and you came along. You were trying to be helpful." Although he was still facing his locker, he was staring at Alex from the corner of his left eye. He saw the teenager's hair move as his head lifted up and turned towards him.

John pretended not to notice that Alex was looking at him, choosing to pull a random textbook out of his locker and cradling it in his arm. "Hey John," Alex started, the smile shining through his voice brighter than the sun, "what do you call a deer with no eyes?"

"What?" John asked suspiciously.

"I have no EYE-DEER!" Alex started laughing.

John groaned aloud. "That was a dad joke. A really bad dad joke."

"Yes it was. Want to hear another?" Alex asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Not really."

"Want to hear a joke about paper?" Alex prompted.

"No." John said firmly.

"Never-mind, it's tearable!" Alex cheered, ripping a piece of paper out of his notebook for emphasis.

John couldn't help it. He chuckled. Not at the joke, because it made him cringe more than anything else, but mainly at how excited Alex was. It was adorable. He was grinning widely from ear to ear. He was beaming. Practically glowing.

"Hey, John? If you mention a robbery at an Apple store, does that make you an iWitness?" John groaned again, but this time he was smiling. Smiling and laughing. "See John? You don't have to be in a bad mood."

"Maybe." John agreed, before seeing Alex's smile falter. "What's up?"

"Do you have a girlfriend, John? Because Herc keeps going on about his and I'm honestly at a loss for what to tell him right now." Alex asked.

"Haven't you had a girlfriend before?"

"Two. But neither was like his current girlfriend. Ever dated a girl who was really adventurous?" Alex elaborated. John didn't respond. "What? No girlfriend for you back in South Carolina?" When Alex still received no response, he elaborated, "No anybody down in South Carolina?"

"I did." John whispered. Alex walked over to his classmate.

"Who was he?" Alex asked softly.

"His name was-" John Laurens' voice cracked. He couldn't continue. He wanted to continue. He did. But he couldn't. Not right there. Not right then. He turned his back to the lockers and slid down until he was on the floor. "Michael." He whispered. It was easier to continue this way. "Like the archangel. Because that's what he was. An angel. To me, anyway." The tears started. Great. Sob in front of the guy you want to impress. Sob about your ex. Fabulous. "But his dad wanted- Well, he didn't approve. So one day, I went to see him, one day when I knew the beating from the day before was particularly painful, but he wasn't there. I knew his parents were out- they always were on Wednesday's. Until 7:45. Those were the best days. So I looked for him, and there he was."

Alex wrapped his arm around John. "How did he do it?"

"Pills. In the bathroom." He choked out. If the tears had been a stream before, now they were a waterfall, at a Niagara Falls level.

Alex pulled John into his chest. He rubbed circles into his back. "Just breathe. Alright John? Remember to breathe." A couple of times John choked, probably on his own snot or saliva, but for the most part he stayed calm enough to breathe.

"How did you know that-that Michael k-killed himself?"

"When I was six, my dad split. He just left me and my mom. She died when I was eight. Cancer. My cousin, he lived on the same island, so I moved in with him. Nine months later, found him hanging from the shower curtain rod. Rope 'round his neck."

"Island?" In the process of lifting his head up from Alex's chest to look him in the eye, the ribbon holding John's hair back came undone and his curls fell into his face.

Alex chuckled. "Of course you'd pick up on that. But then again, I think you're my only classmate who doesn't know, right? I'm from Nevis, an island in the Caribbean. I was moved into an orphanage in New York, but then the Washingtons adopted me. Then they moved here, and so... Connecticut."

"How can you be so matter-of-fact about it all? Like your cousin committing suicide. And your mother dying."

"I guess it's just... my story, you know? Everything happens for a reason. It sucked to live through it, but I've cried enough." Alex held John tighter. "I still cry though. On anniversaries and such. I can't remember one of my birthdays where I didn't cry either. But on other days, I get by.

"But today, I guess it's in my story to help you get by. Don't worry, I'm not homophobic or anything. Your secret is safe with me. Hell, it's kind of my secret too. Alexander Hamilton, bisexual. Glad to make your gay acquaintance."

John let out a weak laugh and smiled. Alex wiped away some of the other boy's tears. "Well, Alexander, I'm pleased to make your gay acquaintance as well."


	5. Chapter 5

John broke the sudden silence. "Can you help me up, do you think?"

Alex scrambled off the floor and held out a hand. John gripped it tightly and hoisted himself up. "Thanks." He murmured. He pulled up the hem of his shirt to wipe away the rest of his tears. Despite his emotional state, there was no way that John's mind could've missed how Alex's eyes flickered and lingered on his abdomen. "Alex?"

"Huh?" Brown eyes snapped up to meet green.

"Did you think I was straight? You did ask about me having a girlfriend, earlier." _And_ maybe _to Hercules even earlier than that._

"Well, I kind of thought that a man with as attractive a face as yours was straight." Alex said, somewhat embarrassed.

"Same here." John chuckled.

"Did you just call me attractive?"

"Did _you_?"

"Ah, turning the tables on me. Smooth." Alex blushed scarlet. He looked down at the ground and his hair fell in front of his face. John couldn't help himself, he tucked a lock of Alex's hair behind his ear and put his finger on the other boy's chin, lightly moving his head upwards.

"That's better." He smiled. "Actually, you know what would be better?" Alex cocked his head to the side, clearly questioning him. John picked up his hair ribbon from the ground. He stepped behind Alex and tied the Caribbean boy's hair back before looking at his handiwork. "Perfect."

"I usually prefer just a good, old hair tie- you know, the ones you can buy in packs of twenty-five for like two dollars?"

"Ribbons are better. They don't break strands of hair, which leaves hair stronger and softer." John replied, sniffling some of his snot.

"You sound like a commercial." Alex joked. "What did the man say when the cashier asked if he wanted the milk put in a bag?"

John leaned his head back against the lockers. The metal banged and clanked loudly. He rubbed the back of his head. "That hurt more than I expected it to." He said sheepishly.

"Well, the man replied, no, just leave it in the carton!" Alex continued his joke. "Do you want your ribbon back?" He reached up to pull the item in question out of his hair.

"Keep it. I have another one." John waved off, but heard barking. "Um...?"

Alex blushed lightly. "That's my phone. It's my dad's ringtone." He clicked an option on the screen and lifted the phone up to his ear. "Hey Dad... yeah... my locker... okay... five minutes? Great." He hung up the call. "Guess I've got to pack up. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. See you tomorrow. We have Pre-Calc, right?"

"Yeah, first period." Alex winced. "That's too early. Ready for the test?"

"I never am. Thanks... for everything." John was avoiding eye contact and saw the front of Alex's shirt. "Shit! Dude, I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine. It'll wash out." He headed over to his locker and pulled out a sweatshirt.

John returned back to his locker. _When did I take out my U.S. History textbook?_ He thought as he picked it up off the ground. He put it back inside his locker and pulled out his pre-calculus text instead. He was looking for his Spanish notebook when he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. _Holy mother of god Alexander Hamilton just took his shirt off. My gay ass is at a loss for words. He doesn't have a six-pack, nor a flat stomach, but he has a tiny little belly that pokes out. It's adorable! And his arms are muscular. Wherever those came along- be it Nevis, New York, or Connecticut- thank the Lord above. I'm too gay for this right now. Please put a shirt on, but also, please don't._ "Spanish!" He whispered to himself in a desperate attempt to avert his eyes.

"What?" Alexander called out.

"Oh, I just said-" _shit his shirt is still off._ "Spanish. I was looking for my notebook. Just talking to myself, basically. I know it's weird."

"I do that all the time. No worries." He pulled his sweatshirt on. _Okay, Laurens, pull yourself together. Spanish._ He packed his bag and pulled on his jacket. Alex walked past him, bag slung over his shoulder, "See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow. Homeroom, then that nasty pre-calc test."

"Oh I look forward to it. No sweat."

"For you." John muttered, but Alex had disappeared into the stairwell. He slammed his locker shut. _You had a chance. You could've kissed him. Told him how you feel. Apologized. But what do you do? Start sobbing about your dead ex._

 _But he comforted me. And he's dealt with suicide before. And I never knew he was from the Caribbean._

 _It explains his accent you idiot._

 _Shut up, you're calling yourself an idiot._

 _And you told yourself to shut up._

 _Touché._ He walked out, following the path Alex had just taken. John looked around, but Alex was already gone. He hoisted his bag higher on his shoulders. He checked his watch. _No time for a stop at Dunkin' Donuts today._ He headed west, so he would be on time to pick up his brothers and sister. _Sami took the bus, so Mark, Peter, and Martha are waiting for me._ He walked the sidewalks and crossed the roads, mind lost in Alexander, feet following a path frequently travelled. _So first we argued. Then he saved me from a detention by lying to his own father, then he saved me from falling out of my chair. Then he and Hercules were discussing him being, not only bisexual, but single as well. I snapped at him. He tried to cheer me up, and we laughed! We weren't fighting, we were getting along! But then I ruined it and started sobbing. Holy shit. Alexander Hamilton held me in his arms while I sobbed into his chest. Someone catch me, I think I'm going to faint. And he figured out I was gay, but he had thought I was straight - maybe I was the guy he was referring to when he talked to Hercules! He called me attractive. And when he took off his shirt, oh lord save me now. His arms clearly belong to an athlete, but I can't remember him ever joining a sports team. And that little stomach was just adorable._

John shivered in the cold and tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. It was the one clump that never stayed out of his face unless he tied it back. His fingers searched the corners of his pockets, but his ever present ribbon was missing. _Where did I leave it?_ He wondered, before his mind summoned an image of Alex wearing it, and a hand reaching up to give it back, but leaving it instead.

 _A little part of my life is now with him._ The thought made him smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Alexander walked out of the doors on the side of the high school building. He looked down at his sneakers, the black ones, as he walked along the paved path past the American flag. He only looked up once, and that was directly when he passed the flag, and, although people made fun of him for it, he let his hand rest on his heart and paused, in silence. His head dropped back down and he became mesmerized by steady steps of sneakers beating pavement.

He knew the path around the building well, and shivered in his sweatshirt as the wind blew particularly hard. Alexander had walked the path many a time to the faculty parking lot. "Alex!" His father called. He looked up and saw his dad waiting by his Honda Accord.

"I'm coming." He groaned, reluctant to walk faster into the wind. When he finally got to the car he threw his backpack in the foot space and not-so-gracefully flopped into the seat, shutting the car door behind him.

"So how was your day?"

"Meh. Had a test. Pop quiz in French. Caught someone falling out of their chair. Nearly got in trouble for said catching." Alex said the last sentence pointedly.

"I don't know why you take French, you speak flawless Spanish." Mr. Washington commented, clearly ignoring his adopted son's jab at him.

"Laf doesn't. I've explained this before, we talk in Spanish _and_ French. It's fun to watch Herc struggle." He laughed good-naturedly. "It's all in good fun, of course. He doesn't take it personally. Now, stop dodging. John Laurens."

"Yes?"

"Why? Just why?" Alex asked, intending for it to sound sharp, but instead sighing.

"I didn't really think about it, honestly. I have to view you as just another student, and as there hasn't been much of a problem, _unlike you and Thomas_ ," he cast Alex a disapproving glance, before chuckling, "I didn't think much about it. You have Hercules. Although, I hope in the future, John manages to keep himself in his chair. Do you want to tell me why that happened? Or why the two of you were so awkward about it?"

Alex's mind flashed back to the maybe-erection. _It probably was just a trick of the eye. A random fold in the fabric. Just because he's gay, which is in fact a wonderful new development, does not mean he's into me._ "We weren't awkward. It was just-" _What had John called it?_ "Exhilaration. Nothing more."

"Alright." And just like that, it's over. The conversation drops.

Alex pulled out his phone and earbuds, and shuffled his 'Tune Out' playlist. He barely noticed the Foreigner playing in his ears as he stared out the window. _What the hell was today? What kind of mess is my life? I tease my crush, who now sits next to me in my_ father's _class, he ends up nearly falling out of his chair, I caught him (I was his knight in shining armor!), and he might have (probably not though) had a boner (the cause of which is still unknown). Said crush blushes beautifully, and it's so adorable! And he was mad at me, probably because I might have embarrassed him, but then he liked my dad jokes! Maybe, he did laugh, but then again, he also groaned. Which were both wonderful sounds, by the way. I hope to hear those again._ He felt his cheeks growing hotter and was grateful for his dad focusing on the roads. _Then- well, that's where it got weird. And bizarre. It was an innocent question, I just wanted to give Herc some good advice! And that ends with John sobbing into my chest. How the hell…? But he was dealing with a suicide as well, so we have more in common than I thought. And he tied my hair back!_ Alexander wanted to swoon. He couldn't help but reach and touch the ribbon tying his hair back. _It's John's ribbon_. It gave him a thrill.

No one else knew that anything had changed. To everyone else, he probably seemed the same. Alexander Hamilton, with a million things he hasn't done. Alexander Hamilton, ready to pick a fight with Thomas Jefferson. Alexander Hamilton, writing like he's running out of time. Alexander Hamilton, who recently (mutually!) broke up with Eliza Schuyler. Alexander Hamilton.

Everyone knew parts of his story. He lived with the Washingtons, who had adopted him when he was 12. He was from the Caribbean, his accent still hadn't faded, a small island called Nevis. He spent time in New York before moving to Connecticut. He had a running feud with Thomas Jefferson. No one really understood that.

No one knew his father abandoned his mother. Or that she tried damn hard to provide for him. But he got the flu, and she caught it from him. But she didn't get better. The local doctors, the ones with the Red Cross who didn't charge much money, said she had cancer. No one knew that he tried to make her life as comfortable as possible while she was left on bed rest. No one knew he worked three jobs and went to the local school all at the same time. Everyone on Nevis knew. But here, Nevis isn't even considered its own island. It was always 'Saint Kitts and Nevis.'

No one here knew that when his mother passed he moved in with his cousin. Who later killed himself. Rope around his neck in the bathroom. No one knew that. Except now, John knew. Herc knew. Laf knew. He wasn't alone any longer. Of course, Jefferson knew as well. He never brought it up though. Everything else was fair game. But there were certain things that were off limits. No one knew that Jefferson was the last name of the Red Cross doctor who took care of Alexander's mother. Or that while he was volunteering, he brought his son on the trip. And that his son became friends with a local boy. No one knew that his son befriended the boy and would sometimes bring him food.

Jefferson knew his buttons and how to push them because he knew _him_. He knew what had happened. And by some great cosmic event they go to high school together. This high school is more than a school. It's a minefield.


	7. Chapter 7

The wind blew the curly black hair into John Laurens' face. He was used to it and ignored the strands getting tossed this way and that. He checked his watch. _I'm making good time._ He couldn't be late to pick up Martha again. Kindergarten through 2nd grade got dismissed first, so it was her that he was worried about. _If only Dad would help me buy a car. But no, that's a waste of money! Even though he spends money on stupid shit- John calm down_. He realized he was clenching his fists and unfurled his fingers, pulling them out of his pockets and stretching them. _Do not get angry at him now. Nothing I do can change him, just piss him off. Then, I never get my car._ John took a deep breath.

He started humming. A jazz song. The lyrics ran through his head as he walked along. Sure enough, he arrived at the public elementary school as her second grade class walked out of the building. He let out a sigh of relief.

He saw her pigtail braids bouncing and she skipped along, orange (because pink was too girly of a color and she was not girly) backpack bouncing with her. "Mattie!"

She turned, one braid hitting the side of her face. Her grin widened. "Johnny!" She ran to him. She was still small enough for him to lift her up into a hug.

"How was your day, Mat?" He asked her, placing her back down on the cement.

"I passed my spelling test!" She cheered. "I only got one word wrong!" Her grin was gap-toothed but genuine. _I don't remember her mentioning having a spelling test today._

"What word?" He asked as he crouched down to her level.

"Diff-i-cult." She sounded it out. "I put one 'f' but there's two. That's mean. It only sounds like one."

"Didn't you study?" John asked, "I know _you_ , of all people, would notice something unjust like that." He exaggerated.

"I didn't know it. I was the only one to take it. So that means I'm special!"

"Mat-" he began to ask.

"John, I presume. May I speak with you? It will just take a minute." He looked at the woman standing behind Martha and stood up slowly. "Please?"

"Hey, Martha, do you want to play on the playground for a few minutes? I'll be right back out. I'll take your backpack."

"Okay! I'm gonna try to finish the monkey bars!" She explained as she shrugged off the orange bag.

"Just remember, don't stop moving, but if you think you're going to fall-" he started to advise.

"Jump off so I don't get hurt, I know. You're such a worrywart." She rolled her eyes.

"Go." He laughed. She ran off to where he remember playing when he was younger. He had about five minutes until the fourth and fifth graders came out, and that's when he had to get Henry and James, so he immediately turned back to the young woman.

She stuck out her hand. "I'm Miss Black."

"Mat's teacher. She talks about you a lot."

"All positive, I hope." Miss Black chuckled. "Look, maybe we should step inside for this." She led the way into the school. She was young, probably in her mid-20s, and clearly unmarried. She was good looking, with her light blonde hair pulled into a styled ponytail. "This is my classroom." She moved her hand in a directed fashion, so John headed inside.

"I'm assuming this is about Mat. And that test today."

"She told you? Oh, of course she did. I know that not every student in this school has a reliable set of parents, and she talks about you like you're the best she has, so I have to ask-"

"Our mother died a week after Mat was born. Our father is a bit- _scatter brained_ at times, but he's a reliable guardian." _No he's not. That's a lie and you know it._

"Okay. Would you have the authority to make a decision about her education or should I schedule a meeting with him?"

"You can talk to me as you would talk to him."

He watched as she flattened the front of her navy blue skirt with her hands. "I've been giving Martha some tests, and these are third and fourth grade tests, and she does incredibly well on them, naturally. She absorbs information like a sponge, and reads three years above her year. I would like to get her transferred to third grade, which is just across the hall. Mrs. Reynolds, one of the third grade teachers, and Mr. Samuels, the principal, agree wholeheartedly that she should be academically challenged."

"That's great!"

"I agree, but we'd need forms signed by a guardian. Legally, can you sign?" She asked him anxiously.

"No, but I can get our father to sign them. May I have the paperwork?"

Miss Black smiled widely. "Yes, you can. Let me just grab them." She walked over to her desk and opened a drawer, before pulling a stapled pack of paper out. "I just need these before the 16th, so your dad has two weeks to sign. I want her to start the next quarter in third grade, and start catching her up now. I only need spoken permission from family that I can start giving her third grade materials." Miss Black handed him the packet.

"Start catching her up. I would hate for her to be behind her new classmates." He smiled.

"Martha's a great student, and I'm glad she's got such a great role model. You should know, when we do projects in class about role models and people the students admire, she always chooses you."

"Thanks for telling me. I'll get these back to you as soon as I can." The bell rang. "Perfect timing." He commented.

"Thank you, John. May I call you John?"

"Yeah. I've got to go get Martha."

"And your brothers?"

"How'd you know about them?"

"We're all in the same school, John. Teachers talk. Martha's much better behaved than the 'devil duo.'" She laughed.

"Why does that not surprise me." He commented dryly. "Well, yes. Them too. Nice meeting you, Miss Black."

"And you, John."

He walked out of the school, and stopped by the fifth grade dismissal area. "Henry, James." He raised his voice slightly. They turned and walked over, stopping at every possible chance to talk to their friends. John rolled his eyes. "I'm not leaving without you." When they finally moseyed over the group of brothers went to get Martha from the monkey bars, and they walked home.

The twins skipped ahead to be 'cool,' leaving Martha with her older brother. "Will you give me a piggyback ride? Just for a little while?" She begged.

John sighed dramatically but grinned at her. "Alright." And he crouched down, and she clambered aboard his shoulders, on top of his backpack. And that's how they walked, all the way home and down their driveway.


	8. Chapter 8

Alex wandered through the front door, his mind running through John's story. _Micheal, like the archangel. Because that's what he was. An angel. To me anyway._

 _So I looked for him, and there he was._

Alex had gotten used to death. It had followed him, with his mother, cousin, that awful hurricane. It still stung, but he had realized it happened. It was just a chapter in his story, and he was going to build something better. Something that would outlive him. But he'd never forget. Nevis held a part of his heart, and it would always remain that way. Martha Washington, also known as 'Mom,' which had taken him over two years years to get used to, asked him about his day, and he gave some simple responses, brain filled with images of John Laurens. He headed up stairs to his room and swiveled around in his chair to face his desk, opening up his textbook and notebook.

 _It takes a lot to open yourself up like he did. He trusted me with a large part of his past._

 _His abs though- when he wiped away his tears with his shirt. Wish I had abs like that._

 _The blush across his freckled cheeks in class. It lit up his face!_

 _The scrunched up expression when he hit his head on the lockers. I wanted to kiss him._

 _The panic when he saw he had cried into my shirt._

 _Stop it, Alexander! Focus on your homework. Pre-Calculus is not going to study itself._ The equations and formulas on the page swirled around his head. Then his mind conjured an image of John, raising his hand in class. "(f+g)(x) = f(x)+g(x)" _Is it bad I remember that? Wait, what is that? One of the algebraic functions? Studying isn't so bad..._

"Dinner!" Martha called. Alex left his dark room. He'd forgotten to turn on the light, like normal. He trudged down the 19 steps, the odd number bugging him as he launched off one of the steps, jumping over the final three. He heard heavier footfalls walking slowly down the stairs. "I hope you were not foolish enough to attempt to sneak your phone to the table again, Alexander. Master spy, you are not."

"It's upstairs, I promise!" He laughed. Martha Washington has a strict no-phones-at-the-table policy, which he has tried to get around more than once.

"Are you sure?" She fixed an eye on him.

"Promise."

"You may sit." Martha smiled. "So, my boys, how was school today?" She asked as George sat at the head of the table.

"Some of the freshmen have yet to catch on that one day they'll receive detentions for some of what they try to pull." George grumbled.

"It's midway through the second semester!" Alex exclaimed.

"And they haven't learned."

"Maybe Herc and I can go intimidate them. Any names in particular?"

"You do that and I will not defend you. You know the drill: I treat you like any of my other students, and you treat me-" but he was cut off.

"'Like any other teacher,' I know, I know. Herc knows. But there's never anything wrong with some juniors shoving some freshmen around. They're the little ones, the cute ones, and they get picked on. Everyone knows that."

"Alexander." George spoke sternly.

"I'm just messing with you, relax, old man." Alex smiled widely. "So, as a proud seventeen-year-old, when will you allow me to get my own car?"

"When you can pay for 50% of it." Martha chimed in. "Your birthday was months ago, it's April, why bring this up now?"

Alexander sighed dramatically. "Because when I want to do things, I have to grovel for a ride or grovel to borrow one of your cars. And it's just a hassle."

"Well, instead of discussing a car, how about we talk about your little scuffle with John Laurens in class today?" George masterfully changed topic.

"I wouldn't call it a _scuffle_ -"

"So an _incident_ , then." George interrupted.

"No!" Alex objected. "Nothing happened! So it was neither an incident nor a scuffle."

George started to respond, "Alex-" but when his wife started to speak, he shut up quickly.

"Boys!" She exclaimed. "Alexander. You said you would stop getting into fights. And usually it's with Thomas, not John. Explain."

Alex shot a look at his adoptive father. "John almost fell out of his seat, I helped make sure he didn't." He said cryptically.

"And you had nothing to do with him falling?" She interrogated.

 _I mean, maybe, if I saw what I think I saw_. "No. I was talking to Herc, but I saw him start to fall and reached out."

George scoffed. "And before that?"

"George." Martha warned. "Alexander, what happened before that?"

"I believe he is referring to when John was whispering to me, asking me about Jamestown's crops." Alex glared at him. "Which is technically your fault for not covering clearly."

" _My_ fault? It's not-"

"Boys! Civility and diplomacy, or you-" She fixed George with an icy look, "will sleep on the couch, and you-" the object of her glare became Alexander, "will lose all electronics for 24 hours."

They both looked at each other and shuffled in their seats. "Sorry Mom." Alex apologized first. "Sorry Martha." George echoed.

"Keep yourselves in check. Now, Alexander, were you and John whispering in class?"

"Yes."

"And was it really about Jamestown and their crops?" As Alex opened his mouth to respond, she continued. "Don't you dare lie to me, young man. George is George here, he will not-" she shot a glare in the man in question's direction, "I repeat, will not, punish you for what is said here."

"No." Alexander said. "It wasn't."

"Then what was it?" Martha pushed.

"Something stupid."

"Alexander." She spoke sternly.

He sighed dramatically before sitting a bit straighter in his chair. "It was about how you're my dad."

"Alex, if there's any bullying going on-" George started.

"Dad! It's not bullying! It was a joke, I swear. John and I are..." _What the hell are we?_ "...friends."

"Friends who groan and moan about having to sit next to each other?" George pestered.

"We're not the best of friends, but we get along just fine." Alex pushed his fork around his plate. "Now can I eat?"

"Well now you can. George, what's your point of view?"


	9. Chapter 9

Martha clamored off of John's shoulders and started to run up the stairs with her backpack, probably to do her homework, like always. John chuckled to himself. _She'll do well in third grade_. Henry and James dropped their backpacks in the living room before running back out the door to head to one of their friend's house. "Wait! Slow down!" John called after them. "Who's house today?" He asked as they turned around.

"Nate." James said quickly, and they took off running again.

"Be back before dinner!" He added. Henry raised his hand in acknowledgment, both twins refusing to turn around.

John rolled his eyes and shut the front door behind him. _Those two truly are the devil-duo_. He thought back to Miss Black and what she had said. His heart swelled with pride for his younger sister. The paperwork seemed to be weighing down his backpack, and he wanted to walk straight to his father's office and demand he sign it, but that wouldn't work. He had to specifically time things like this. As he walked past his father's office, he heard a loud, "John?"

John held back a sigh. "Yes Father?"

"Come into my office." John quickly smoothed his hair and made sure his jacket was closed before stepping inside the wood-paneled room. "I would like to thank you."

"For what?" _He never thanks me for anything unless we're in public._

"Not sleeping around. Senator Schuyler and I no longer have to worry about Mr. Prevost running against us. It recently became public knowledge that his daughter, Theodosia Prevost is a nice girl, with a wonderful name, and has had four boyfriends and she's only your age."

John suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. _Theodosia Prevost is a nice girl, with a wonderful name, and has had four boyfriends. It's not like she's the school slut. That title goes to Maria Reynolds._ "Okay."

"Please don't start now. I know you have no concern for politics, but don't sabotage mm campaign just for some notches on your bedpost." _And there it is. It always comes back to the campaign and re-election._

"I won't." _Who'd want to date me, anyway? And it'd take me forever to find another gay guy, let alone one who's my type._

 _What about Alexander Hamilton?_ John felt his cheeks start to darken. "Is that all, Father?"

"Yes." And with his dismissal, John hastily turned and left. He started walking down the hallway, practically tiptoeing to avoid confronting his father again. He had just stepped onto the bottom stair when he heard an echoing thud. "Martha?" He called. No response. "Martha!" He yelled, dashing to the second floor as fast as his legs would carry him. The first door on the right was hers and he ran in.

"Sorry Johnny. Just dropped my book." She grinned sheepishly. Sure enough, her right hand held _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_ by J. K. Rowling. "I was distracted by my tooth and then…" she shrugged.

"Your tooth? Your loose tooth?" He asked.

She held out her left hand, fingers furled into a ball. Slowly the fingers spread open, revealing a tooth sitting in the center of her palm. "It just fell out."

"Well, we should wash it off then, and put it under your pillow for the tooth fairy!" He cheered. Martha started to get excited. John lead her out of her room and she ran as fast as she could to the bathroom. She stood on the tops of her toes to reach the counter and placed her tooth there. John picked it up and ran it under cold water to wash off some of the blood. "There you go. Nice and clean. Better go place it under your pillow."

Martha grabbed it eagerly and headed back to her room. Mary Eleanor poked her head out of her doorframe. "What just happened?"

"Your sister lost another tooth. Hello you to too, Mary."

"Oh, right. Hello John. I will be working on my science fair project if you need me. Don't need me." Mary was a seventh grader who fancied herself an adult already. John walked back over to the staircase and trekked to the third floor, where his room was in the far corner of the house. It seemed only reasonable that he picks the one as far from his father's office (with his bedroom alongside) as possible.

He immediately opened the window to the cold April chill. John refused to leave his door open when he wasn't home, and because it was below the attic and so high up, the air circulation wasn't the best. His room was the hottest in the summer and the coldest in the winter, but he managed. It was worth it to be away from his father.

He opened his pre-calculus textbook and cringed. Most of the reasoning behind him passing this class was staring at Aaron Burr's tests. Most of the reasoning behind him failing this class was staring at Alexander Hamilton, in general. Mainly when he does that thing when he doesn't know the answer- with his tongue on his lip and brow furrowed, he's a general distraction. Eliza _and_ Angelica Schuyler clearly thought so. So did over half that girls in any of the classes he had.

No one ever tried to flirt with him, though. After his breakup with Eliza Schuyler, Miss Perfect herself, what girl will ever measure up? John rolled his eyes at the logic. He shivered and flexed his socked feet that were starting to go numb. _Time to close that window. Air is fresh enough_. He looked back at his pre-calc textbook and sighed heavily. Martha's opportunity would distract him until her read it, so he grabbed that instead. There were nearly thirty pages, and some had neon pink post-its noting where their father had to sign.

 _Student with proven excelled behavior… placement testing to occur on precedented date…_ The teenager's brain could only comprehend some of the non-legal terms. He reread the first page three times and it still made his head swim.

 _You can learn to work with dyslexia, but it never goes away. It haunts, taunts, and teases until you wish it would jump off a cliff or in front of a bullet._

 _Don't think like that. You'll come back to it later. Pre-Calculus test tomorrow morning._


	10. Chapter 10

A few hours later and with math terms floating alongside legal ones in the head, John headed down to dinner. His father could not stand lack of punctuality, and he insisted on family dinner every evening at 7:15. Of course, _every evening_ only meant when there wasn't a meeting, event, or other incredibly important senator-related thing Sen. Laurens just _had_ to show his face at. Then it was up to John to keep the habit, so Mary, Henry, James, and Martha had some form of stability in their lives. He has his mother for much longer than they had.

So John had made it his business to be a father to each one of his siblings. He had seen Mary through nickname changes, homework, projects, and how to use a laptop. He had seen the twins through three different sports, a brief stage of dancing, and many injuries. He had seen Martha through weekly library trips, ballet, which had then changed to contemporary, and all her art projects. He was their Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy, head chef, and nurse. Today being Wednesday, it was a take-out night, so his father ordered food.

John had brought up that idea, and then wrote down what Mary, Henry, James, and Martha would each eat from each of their local restaurants, and who wouldn't eat from where. And the allergy notes. Because god forbid a father remember that one of his daughters has a peanut allergy. Or that James' system doesn't do so well with copious amounts of dairy. The man could remember his opponents and supports' details to a 'T,' but his own family seemed to be too much to ask.

He smelled buffalo sauce, so he knew it must be Chili's, because they always got an order of buffalo-sauce covered chicken tenders. Everyone in the family loved those, except Mary, who was going through a vegetarian phase.

There were eight chairs around their dinner table, and obviously Sen. Laurens sat at the head. John and the twins sat on his left, Mary and Martha to his right, both sides seated oldest to youngest. John gazed around the dining room and saw that the twins were missing. _They better have come home or I swear…_

He turned towards the stairwell and yelled, "Henry! James!" By the thundering of footsteps John heard echoing from the second floor, they were home. He took his seat and Henry sat next to him. James slid into his chair and laughed at something had said, by the grin on his face.

Mary and Martha were already seated and helping themselves to food. Sen. Laurens glared at Mary Eleanor for going to take a bite of one of her quesadillas. "We pray first, you know that."

They all clasped hands. "Our Father," the senator began. His children dutifully picked up the rest of the prayer, "Who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name." John had said it so many ties that he no remembered it. His mouth moved on autopilot and his brain wandered.

 _Martha's birthday is coming up in a few weeks. That means the anniversary is also coming up._

"Amen."

John looked at his youngest sibling as she, like his other three, started to eat. He had known their mother for nearly ten years. Mary Eleanor has known her for five years, the twins for three, and Martha has never even seen her mother alive.

Their mother died during childbirth, and when Martha was born still alive, it considered a miracle. But John considered the true miracle to be the different days. Martha was born so early in the morning, and Eleanor Laurens died so late in the night, John made sure that Martha never felt guilty about it.

As he slowly took a bite of his burger, he knew his father wouldn't realize either of the two events next week. He would ignore celebrations for both his daughter and deceased wife within a span of less than 24 hours.

He slowly ate his burger while his father engaged each child in boring small talk. He talked to Mary about how long her hair was getting when she actually wanted a pixie cut, asked Henry and James about soccer when they haven't played in three years and have since moved on to basketball. He turned to Martha and asked about her friend Sami, who moved away a year ago. She nodded absentmindedly and said that Sami was fine.

As John took a bite of his fry, his father turned back to him. "John, my son. How are your classes?"

"Bit tricky."

"Well if you study hard, you'll succeed." _Bullshit_. "It's mind strength that's important. But you're still doing sports, right?" _Never_.

"You know it."

"I'm glad. You've got to keep up your image." _I can keep up my image just fine. But whatever you say_ , father dearest. John just nodded, instead of vocalizing his sarcastic train of thought.

Fifteen minutes later, after all the children had long ago finished eating and Sen. Laurens was just finishing, their father stood up and said, "You are all excused." He left his plate and no one asked questions. Because that's what a proper parent should do. Of course. John had to repress the urge to roll his eyes. After their father had fully exited the dining room, the five children stood up. Henry Jr. and James collected plates, silverware, and glasses and brought them into the kitchen, Martha collected the napkins and threw them out, leaving Mary to load the dishwasher, and John would unload it later.

This was how the Laurens family worked, and later, when John was doing his 'rounds,' making sure that Martha, Henry, and James were in bed, lights out, he couldn't help but think that it shouldn't be this war. Later, when he brought two dollars into Martha's room from the Tooth Fairy, he recalled how he had done the same with the twins, but Henry would always try to stay up, so he would always have to wait an extra-long amount of time. Mary's light was already off when John went to tell her she had fifteen minutes before bed. _She's probably on her phone, but I'll let her be. She knows to get enough sleep._ John grabbed his Pre-Calc textbook and went back to studying.


	11. Chapter 11

Alex's alarm went unnoticed and after five minutes of ringing, it shut off automatically. The other alarms scheduled had yet to go off when his phone rang with loud, blaring sound. He picked his head off a pillow that had found its way onto his desk - _Probably Mom_ \- and grabbed his phone. "Alexander!" A female voice chimed.

"Ah, my dearest Angelica, what can I-" He yawned. "Do for you?"

"You can wake up with your alarm, for one. What's the last time you remember seeing?"

"I looked at the clock around... let me see... 3:37."

"Alexander! Sleep is an important human necessity, and you need it." Angelica nagged.

"Ange, you're an angel, but I have a Pre-Calculus test first period. I need to pass that to get to Calculus, so I can start college with Trigonometry."

"You don't _need_ any of that. You cannot derive yourself of this much sleep regularly. You must promise me to sleep tonight."

"I will."

"You said that last time."

"I promise. On my life." He meant it. _I will never anger Angelica. When she's mad, an angel she is not. More like Prince of Hell. Princess._

"See you in Pre-Calc. Because I studied. To a reasonable time. And got a good night's sleep."

"See you." Alex abjured. He heard the tone that signaled her hanging up on him. "And John." He added softly. He didn't remember much of his dreams, ever, but sometimes little images stuck with him. Soft hair, a softer smile, millions of freckles, and dark eyes. He was trying to remember what his dream had been about, other than his kind classmate, when he became aware of a _hard_ problem. He sighed. _Maybe I know what that dream was about after all_. Alex's second alarm went off, jolting him from his thoughts. _Right_. _Rest of my day_. He quickly got ready for school, and that began with the bathroom.

.*&*.

He shivered in the cold at the bus stop and tried to ignore his hair going into his face. Why is it so cold and snow is lingering on the ground in April? His gaze was focused on his Pre-Calc textbook. The recently-assigned AP Language & Composition research paper sat completed in his bag alongside other work that wouldn't be due for another week at least. His eyes ran over equations and theorems. Alex looked up at the squeak of brakes. The bus was stopped in front of him. He walked up the three steps and went a few seats down, slid in against the window and went right back to reading from the textbook he hadn't even closed.

.*&*.

"Alex!" A female voice called. He continued walking up the stairs to the second floor. "Alexander Hamilton!"

"Yes, my dearest Angelica?" He sighed as he turned around.

"Ha-ha. Very funny. I meant it about you getting a better night's sleep. I expect to see you Friday morning well-rested, bright-eyed, and bushy-tailed." The eldest Schuyler sister commanded.

"Ange, like a said, you're an angel, but-" and though his mouth continued on autopilot about how he would try, but couldn't guarantee any success, his mind was now focused on John. Another reason he couldn't sleep last night. He just seemed so, helpless, when they were in the hallway. And Michael. _No one deserves to have someone commit suicide. Everyone is loved, but not everyone knows it. There's always someone out there who loves you- be it a cousin or a boyfriend_. "I'll try."

"You had better, Alexander. So, are you ready for Pre-Calculus?" Alex lifted his textbook so she could see he had been studying. "Ah. I'll take that as a no. Even though you were studying all night."

"Angelica-"

"It's fine, Alexander. I've got to go- I promised Theodosia I'd help her with her French." Angelica rushed off down the hall.

"Goodbye." He said to empty space. He opened his locker and saw his shirt was stuffed inside. _Why is- John. He cried all over it. Shit, I should probably find him so he doesn't think I'm avoiding him... although with my dream last night I probably should._

 _No! Find him and give him the ribbon, as planned._

After searching the first floor, and then the second, Alexander ascended to the third and was about to give up on his search when he saw John's hair turn the corner into the stairwell. He was looking downwards. "John!" Alex called. "John!" He moved through the hallway. The taller teenager turned around in the doorframe. "Oh, hi Alex. Sorry if I didn't hear you, I was reading." He lifted a packet of paper slightly as proof.

"It's fine. I just wanted to return your ribbon." As John began to protest, Alex truly noticed the style of paper. "That looks legal." John's face flushed scarlet, and he moved the papers downwards to partially hide them. "I didn't mean to pry!" Alex apologized quickly. "I just want to be a lawyer, so I've become accustomed to seeing papers like that."

 _Maybe that could be helpful..._ John thought. "Do you need to be anywhere during lunch?"

"Well, I eat with Herc and Laf, alongside the Schuyler sisters, and... why?" Alex had to admit, he would gladly ditch his friends for John just this once.

"Can I sit with you guys and you could maybe help me understand these papers?" John mutter bashfully.

"Oh, of course- I mean, gladly! Or-" Alex rambled and John's brain worked quickly. _He looks so kissable right now... Fuck John, don't be so gay, you just became friendly with the guy and then sobbed into his chest uncontrollably. So try to exercise some restraint today, you idiot._

Alexander stopped rambling with a quiet, "Sorry."

John's eyes flashed up from his lips to his eyes. "Don't worry! So, I guess I'll see you at lunch- and Pre-Calculus as well. Good luck on that test, I hope you studied!" And he hastily moved further into the stairwell and down the steps. Alex stared after him until a senior bumped into him and shoved him aside, breaking his line of sight.


End file.
